Chapter 5: District Heat [Slapshot!]

Chapter 5: District Heat [Slapshot!]


Danny dumped more pills into Luke’s hand. Luke swallowed them down, then stared at the two of them. “I don’t think they’re working,” he said.

“We still have to get on the bus,” Matt said.

The bus was, in fact, some kind of torture. He was sandwiched between Matt and Danny, and no, the drugs weren’t working. He slumped in his seat, struggling not to pant or whimper. He kept fidgeting, spreading his legs. He knew his face was flushed, his eyes glassy. He kept glancing at Danny and Matt, trying to discern if either of them was as hard as he was. He was pretty sure it was obscene, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

They drove straight to the airport. Of course they would fly back tonight. He’d been hoping against hope that they’d at least stop at the hotel, that maybe he could take his teammates up on their offer of “helping” him.

He tried not to think. He was going to have to decide what to do when they got into DC—did he seek Mason out, did he go home and call Mason to him, or did he go home with Danny and Matt and … ?

Brenden grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him into the window seat on the plane. “Sit here,” he instructed, then shoved Sebby into the seat next to him.

“Why?” Sebby snapped, glowering at Brenden, but Brenden said nothing. He slid into the seat behind Luke. Danny and Matt took up the seats in front of them, and Mike plopped down beside Brenden.

Jake glowered at them from across the way, and Luke curled in on himself. Sebby and Mike couldn’t smell him, but everyone else could.

He’d never been so thankful for the short flight. They were back in the District within half an hour.

He was practically herded off the plane. Mike and Sebby were still very confused, but Brenden nodded at Matt and Danny. “I’ll get these two home,” he said, gesturing to Sebby and Mike. “You take care of Macks.”

Mike’s brow furrowed like he was thinking, and he looked at Brenden, but said nothing. Sebby quirked a brow.

“Will do,” Matt said, and Danny shuffled Luke toward the car.

“I drove,” Luke protested weakly.

“You’re in no fit state to drive,” Danny pronounced, opening the door.

“But,” Luke breathed.

“In,” Danny said, and Luke crawled in, ashamed to be taking orders from another omega, of all people. The door slammed shut, and Danny clambered into the passenger seat.

“Mason is here,” Luke said when Danny had closed the door.


“Mayday. Mason Green.”

Danny lifted an eyebrow. “So?” he asked.

“I,” Luke said.

“We have playoffs in four days, Macks. We’re gonna get you straightened out.”


“’sides, you got Matt and I all worked up. You gonna leave us hanging like that?”

Luke swallowed hard. “I just,” he whimpered. His body wanted, but he wasn’t sure what he actually wanted. He was a bit scared, really—the only time he’d been involved with any more than one person had been … unpleasant, to say the least.

There was a knock on the window. Danny rolled it down and peered out at Jake.

“Is Macks okay?” the younger man asked, feigning innocence.

“He’ll be fine,” Danny replied. “Matt and I have this under control.”

“You sure?”

“We’re fine,” Matt said as he approached the vehicle. “You can head on home, Jake.”

“Well, if Macks needs anything,” Jake drawled, dragging on “need.”

“We’ll handle it,” Matt replied cooly.

“You sure? You sure you can?” Jake bared his teeth.

Matt snarled back.

“Enough,” Danny snapped. “I don’t need to be in the middle of an alpha pissing war—Jake, go home; Matt, get in the car.”

The alphas regarded each other warily, but backed away from each other. Matt climbed into the driver’s side, slamming the door. Jake watched, arms crossed, as they pulled away.

“Please take me home,” Luke said.

“We are,” Matt replied, glancing in the rearview.

“No,” Luke said, “like home. To my house.”

“No. You can’t be on your own.”


“Enough,” Danny said. “No more discussion.”

Luke groaned, then ducked his head between his knees. He wasn’t really in a position to argue.

Either way, he was getting fucked—which was precisely what he needed right then and there.

He tried to remember how to breathe.

“Here we are,” Matt said at last.

“Home sweet home,” Danny murmured, hopping out of the vehicle.

Luke lifted his head and unfastened his seatbelt. Danny opened the car door, caught Luke as he practically slid out of the vehicle. Luke looked up at him, clutching at his sweater. He pressed himself in tighter, seeking friction.

Danny landed a hand on his ass, pulling him in close, and Luke closed his eyes.


Matt glowered at them, which was enough to pull them apart. Danny patted Luke on the ass, then headed around the car, fetching their gear.

“Inside,” Matt said, urging Luke toward the door. “You probably shouldn’t be outside right now.”

Luke stayed the whimper that rose in his throat; it was hard to forget how vulnerable he was when he was in heat. Omegas were prime targets for harassment and violence because they were naturally submissive, and it was socially unacceptable to fight back. But an omega in heat was in an even worse position, because they couldn’t even control their own urges.

It was almost impossible to get a rape charge pressed if the victim was in heat. Luke, unfortunately, was all too aware of that reality. The argument was that the omega was in heat and had therefore consented. It didn’t matter that they weren’t in control of themselves, that they weren’t thinking straight. Nobody else was—alphas and scenting betas were affected by an omega’s scent, which somehow absolved them of all responsibility. It was an omega’s duty to ensure they weren’t out in public when they were in heat.

The neighborhood was quiet; there was an old man across the street, washing his vehicle. He was looking sourly at them.

Luke didn’t need Matt to herd him to the door. He hated being in heat because he always felt so damn vulnerable.

They crowded into the foyer, a tangle of gear and limbs. Shoes were kicked off, bags were dropped. The door was shut and locked—nobody was going in or out.

Danny glanced at Matt just once, seeking approval. He found it; he was all hands the next instant, pinning Luke against the wall and grinding. Luke rocked his hips against him, moaning helplessly, shuddering as Danny touched him, hands sliding down his torso, back over his ass.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Danny murmured, mouthing Luke’s ear, then nipping at his neck. Luke tilted his head back, giving him better access.

“You smell so good,” he growled, his voice vibrating through Luke’s blood. He sank his teeth into Luke, just below his clavicle.

For his part, Luke was choking on pheromones—Matt’s presence was strong, sharp, like crisp winter air, like ice and snow. Danny didn’t smell half as strong, but his scent was there, subtle and cloying, like cinnamon and cloves.

Danny pulled back and Luke stared at him as he thumbed over the scars on Luke’s neck—two of them.

Danny smirked. “I’ve heard of once bitten, but twice?”

Luke didn’t have anything to say. He hated having the scars touched; they only brought up bad memories.

“Okay,” Danny said softly, withdrawing his touch.

Matt was hovering nearby. “You’ve been mated twice?” he asked, apparently not content to let the subject lie.

Luke cringed at the word “mated.” Danny glowered at Matt, who grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said. “I just … wow. Macks, you get around.”

Luke gritted his teeth.

“Okay,” Danny said, “touchy subject, let’s talk about something else.”

“Like how we’re gonna fuck him?”

“Please,” Luke breathed, relieved to leave the subject of his scars and to get back to the real matter at hand: dealing with his intensifying heat.

“Mm, yeah. How are we gonna fuck you, Macks?”

“Any way you want,” Luke sighed, “just do it already.”

“Impatient much?”

Danny shot Matt another dirty look. The alpha frowned. “What?”

“You ever been in heat, Matt?”

“Uh, no. That’s your domain, Danny-boy.”

“Then shut the fuck up.”

Luke gritted his teeth and gripped at the wall behind him. At least Danny understood how painful heat got to be, but he could have really hurried up.

“Relax,” Matt told him, “we have four days to get you straightened around before playoffs, Macks. If you’re like Danny, that’s more than enough time—”

Luke pitched forward, panting. He needed to get flat, on his back, or on his knees—something, anything.

He dropped to all fours, narrowly avoiding landing his hands on Danny’s feet. The other omega stepped back in surprise.

“Oh, whoa,” Matt said.

Luke’s cheeks were on fire, but he couldn’t help himself; his body was beyond his control now. His hips lifted of their own accord.

“Let’s get upstairs,” Danny said, glancing at Matt.

“Good idea,” the alpha said and headed for the stairs. Danny helped Luke back to his feet, guided him to the staircase.

“We’ll get you on the bed, get you naked, put you on your back, spread your legs—”

“Yes,” Luke panted, clutching at the bannister, “yes, yes, yes—”

Matt closed the bedroom door after them. Danny half-dumped Luke onto the bed; Luke half-collapsed onto the mattress.

“You are so goddamn ready,” Danny murmured, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Luke’s pants, sliding them down.

“Ready,” Luke echoed, watching the other omega. His mouth felt numb, his lips heavy. Words were strange.

“Fuck, is he ever,” Matt spat, watching them both keenly as Danny continued stripping Luke. “Macks, you’re soaked.”

Luke wriggled uncomfortably, feeling how true that was. The backs of his thighs were slick. Heat induced lubrication that was otherwise absent in omega males; the most popular argument was that this made them ready to receive any time, anywhere, thus facilitating the goals of heat—which was to get fucked, any way possible, as many times as possible.

He met Danny’s gaze as the older man parted his legs, nudging his knees wide, and then slid two fingers into him.

“Good?” the brunet asked, and Luke nodded stupidly, then let his head fall back as Danny scissored his fingers.

Matt’s voice was husky as he said, “Get him good and ready for me, Dan.” A second later, there was the thud of a belt hitting the floor, followed by the whine of a zipper.

Both Luke and Danny turned to watch the alpha as he pulled his shirt over his head, the stretch highlighting his abs. He dropped the tee to the floor and smirked at the two of them. “Omegas.”
He shook his head, then shimmied out of his skivvies, rolling them down over his thighs, kicking them away when they hit the floor.

Danny stretched Luke wide, forced a third finger into him. “Oh god,” Luke groaned, letting his head loll from side to side as Danny started thrusting, distractedly finger-fucking him as he watched Matt.

Matt crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his added weight. He grasped Danny’s wrist, drawing the omega’s hand free of Luke’s fevered body. Luke closed his eyes and let his knees drop together.

He lifted his head and opened his eyes, watched Matt lick Danny’s already slick digits. They took no notice of him; their intense gazes were locked.

“No lube,” Danny said suddenly, pulling free of Matt’s grip on him. “He’s wet enough.”

“Yeah?” Matt looked at Luke. “What do you think, Macks?”

Luke couldn’t fathom a coherent response. He could feel how wet he was—a sensation he still wasn’t used to—almost like someone had already finished in him and now it was dripping back out of him. He shifted uncomfortably.

Matt nudged Danny aside, wedging himself between Luke’s legs. “Ready for me?” he asked.
Luke squirmed, both in embarrassment and delight; Matt’s gaze was predatory, and Luke both loved and hated being under such scrutiny.

Matt planted his hands on either side of Luke’s hips; his shoulders tucked under Luke’s knees, lifting him up.

There was a moment of fumbling while Matt tried to get them lined up right. Luke wasn’t much help, whimpering uselessly as Matt pressed against him, missing the mark a couple of times, before finally, finally pushing in.

Luke’s groan was long and loud. He rocked up against Matt, hoping to guide him in deeper.
Matt paused when they were flush against each other, gasping. “Fuuuuck,” he breathed, “I forgot about this.”

Luke tensed around him, pushing down a little more.

Matt drew back, gave a couple of experimental thrusts, shallow and probing. “You’re tight,” he choked, then gritted his teeth. “So tight.”

Luke clenched up and bore down. Matt bit his lip, then growled. He clutched at Luke’s hips, blunt nails digging in as he drew himself in, leaning over Luke.

“You want it bad, huh?”

“Uh,” Luke replied, lifting his hips.

Matt’s nails dug in deeper. He started thrusting with more earnestness, shoving in deeper and deeper with each successive drive. “You wanna get fucked, you want me to plow you until you can’t stand, force you wide open, until you can’t take it any more—”

“Oh fuck yes,” Luke rasped, gripping at the sheets, rocking into Matt’s frantic pace.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw,” Matt snarled, leaning in to nip at Luke’s neck, “gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna ache, you’re gonna feel it for days, and you’re gonna think of me—”

“Please, please, please,” Luke gasped.

Danny groaned low; Matt turned to him, but Luke was barely able to roll his eyes in the other omega’s direction.

“That’s fucking hot,” Danny panted. He was jerking himself furiously.

“Jeez, Dan,” Matt murmured, pulling out of Luke—Luke protested loudly—and turning him over, onto all fours. “We’ve got a place to put that, way better than your hand.”

He forced Luke’s mouth open. “Give this noisy little bitch something to suck on.”

“Oh fuck,” Danny murmured.

Matt startled, then slapped Luke’s ass. “Slut,” he all but purred, “you like that, huh? You want Danny to fuck your mouth? You want Danny to fuck your face while I fuck you from behind?”

Luke whined, then glanced up at Danny, who had crept closer now. Matt was unrelenting, holding Luke’s mouth open, forcing his head down toward Danny’s cock.

Luke held Danny’s gaze, pressing his tongue to the underside of the other omega’s cock, then closing his lips over the head. Danny’s fingers threaded through his hair. “Yeah,” he breathed, “just like that …”

Luke hollowed his cheeks. He closed his eyes, listened to Danny’s ragged breathing.

Then Matt was behind him, sinking into him. He glanced up at Danny again, sliding down his cock as Matt rocked him forward. He sucked harder, then pulled back and licked at the head, sucking and kissing the tip, lapping up pre-cum, trying to hold himself steady as Matt drove down into him.

He pulled off, looking up at Danny as he jerked him. The other omega tightened his grip in Luke’s hair, tugging a little as he gritted his teeth.

Luke went down again, relaxing as best he could, swallowing as much of Danny he could, sucking for all he was worth. He grunted as Matt picked up his pace, slamming into him with wild abandon, his nails digging deep into Luke’s hips.

He groaned around Danny’s cock, and Danny tugged at his hair, thrusting forward. Luke inhaled through his nose, exhaled another long, drawn-out moan as he got jackhammered from both ends.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Matt was panting, “so hot, oh my god.”

Danny was much less vocal, grunting and growling. Luke couldn’t do anything more than give himself over to sensation, pushed and pulled between the two of them.

“Fuck,” Danny said, and Luke dug his fingers into his thighs, choking Danny down as he came, sudden and violent.

He pulled back, coughing, wincing as more sticky liquid splashed into his face. He licked his lips.

Danny smeared come across his cheek, rubbed his fingers across Luke’s bruised lips. “Heat looks good on you,” he breathed, and if he could have, Luke would have flushed more.

Instead, he was flipped onto his back again, Matt pinning him down with ease, slamming back into him, then resuming his relentless pace.

Danny watched them for a moment, then shuffled about, positioning himself behind Matt.
Jealously shot through Luke—why did Matt get to be in the middle? He wasn’t the one in heat, and Luke was still male and half of him hadn’t had any fun yet.

Matt actually had the audacity to laugh him, apparently understanding all too well what the omega’s snappish cry of betrayal meant.

“You’ll get your turn, you filthy boy,” he murmured. “I bet you’re not near done yet, are you?”

That much was true, Luke knew. His heat cycles tended to last about six days—which meant three or four more days of this torturous state of need. To make matters worse, he was anorgasmic for most of that period; most omegas were. An inability to climax inhibited the refractory period and spurred him to keep seeking gratification.

Basically, he could just keep going, which was frustrating.

Danny pushed into Matt, and Matt ground to a halt, buried hilt-deep in Luke. “Oh,” he groaned, and then Danny was in charge of the tempo, a gentle, rolling rhythm that sought to dissipate all the frenetic energy they’d been building. It was slow, achingly slow, almost maddening.

Luke clutched at the sheets. He needed more than that, an unhurried stroking, dragging friction against his inner walls, and then a breath, then sliding in again, inch by inch.

Matt groaned low and pitched forward; he was breathing rapidly, his chest rising and falling against Luke. Their skin stuck together as they slid against each other.

“How you doing?” Matt panted in his ear, reached down between his legs and squeezed him tight.

Luke’s hips rolled forward into Matt’s grip, seeking more. He whined, high-pitched and frantic.

“Just like that,” Matt breathed, flicked his wrist. “Just like that, Danny, oh god.”

Luke shut his eyes, bit his lip.

He yelped when Matt grabbed him tight, digging his nails into Luke as he emptied himself.

“Fuck,” he groaned, melting onto Luke, boneless, limp—a deadweight draped over Luke.
He released Luke a second later. “Sorry,” he murmured, pulling back.

Luke grimaced as come splashed down the backs of his thighs, dripping out of him.

“Fuck, you look hot like that,” Matt moaned, and Luke whimpered, because he needed more than that, and it wasn’t fair that Matt had finished already and he was nowhere near—

Hands on his hips. Danny grinned ferally at him. “My turn,” he growled, then plowed deep into Luke.

He took two slow, experimental thrusts, and then rocked a little harder, pushing deeper into Luke. The rhythm was furious; Luke let his head fall back, wondering if the headboard was really thumping against the wall or if his vision was shaking that much.

All he could hear was flesh smacking flesh, drowning coherent thought. All he knew was that it felt good and he needed more. It was deep, but not deep enough; it was good, but not good enough. He clutched at the sheets, gave himself over to instinct, giving voice to the mewls and whimpers and half-punctuated cries, tinged with pleasure, tinged with frustration.

“Fuck,” Danny said and grabbed his hips and Luke was aware he was going to have some bruises from this—and how was he going to explain that to Mason, because Mason was going to find out and—

Warmth exploded through him, and he cried out in shock because he hadn’t been ready for that. Danny shook and shuddered above him.

Then the other omega pulled away. More liquid gushed down Luke’s thighs. Danny forced his legs up even higher, even as he started to tremble.

“Jesus, look at you,” Matt murmured, “we made a real mess of you, creampie, lookit. Just drippin’ out of your slutty hole.”

Luke hated that he was turned on by that, but his cock was weeping, and he couldn’t help the way his hole was contracting—trying to find something, anything to grab onto so he could be satisfied.

Danny shoved a finger into him, apparently taking pity on him. Matt looked up at him, locked gazes with him. “You feelin’ empty?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke managed, his voice trembling.

“Need something to fill you up?”

“Mm,” Luke replied, biting his lip. He managed the barest of nods.

“What do you think, Danny? Should we give him something for that needy hole of his?”

Danny just gave Matt a withering look, one that asked, ‘What the fuck do you think I’m doing?’ He slid a third finger into Luke, as though to drive his point home.

Luke keened. He was shaking and shuddering now—they’d played a hard game and now this; he was reaching the point of exhaustion, but the fever was burning him up. He was swollen and achy, his nerve-endings on fire. He could scarcely think about anything other than raw need, the need to have something, anything in him. He clenched around Danny’s fingers, whimpering loudly.

He kept panting, his mouth falling open. He licked his lips, felt saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth, but he couldn’t even do anything about it. He just needed. He had no control over his voice any longer—just these whining, keening cries, sharp and punctuated, flowing out of him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop them, not even if he wanted to. They echoed inside his own ears, ringing around in his skull, emphasizing his own need.

Everything felt a bit hazy, a bit confused. Matt was talking, but the audio wasn’t syncing with the visual—his lips moved and there was a drag, his voice reaching Luke’s eardrums a second later.

“I think he needs more, Danny.”

Luke convulsed, clenched around Danny’s hand. Four fingers now, if he could be bothered to count, maybe—all he knew was that there was something in him and it wasn’t nearly enough.
“What do you recommend?” Danny was thrusting his hand, his fingers driving deeper, pressing on Luke’s innards now, but still not finding that spot, not finding the point that would release Luke from this.

Luke started to sob. Words poured forth, his need undammed—“Please, anything, everything, please, I need, I need—“

“Shut up,” Danny snapped, and Luke bit his lip, shut his eyes, turned his head to the side. He started thrusting uselessly. He couldn’t catch his breath. He writhed helplessly, fucking himself on Danny’s fingers, yelping with every thrust.

Matt’s eyes had glazed over. “Fuck,” he murmured, exhaling heavily, “you get bad, huh? Danny, how come you never get like this?”

Danny bristled, stabbed into Luke, his nails raking over Luke’s inflamed insides. Luke yelped again, this time in pain. That was mean. He caught Danny’s gaze, hoped he looked pathetic enough that the other omega felt sorry for him.

Danny snarled, then pulled his hand free. “You want something to cry about?” he growled, shoving Luke’s legs up high.

That snapped Luke out of it. His entire body tensed; his eyes went wide. He’d heard that before, fuck, he’d heard that before.

His stomach started churning. He was gonna puke. He’d heard those words before, right before his world had erupted in unprecedented pain.

He tried to close his legs, tried to seal his body shut. He struggled uselessly against Danny’s grip on him.

“The fuck,” Matt snapped.

He didn’t even have words. How could he possibly explain that to them? He didn’t want them to know, he didn’t ever want to think about that pain ever again, didn’t want to relive it ever—but he remembered, all of his sinew remembered, remembered Jack snarling and snapping at him, remembered the others with their calloused hands and their callous laughter, and bruises and blood, and his legs spread wide, his body stretched, choking on—

Danny dropped his legs. “Luke?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Luke gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the barrage of memory. He hated heat, hated it, because he was so damn vulnerable, because—

“You okay? Luke, hey. Hey. It’s okay—I’m just playin’, Macks, ‘m not gonna hurt ya—”

Danny leaned in and nuzzled him, pressing their cheeks together—tears and come smeared across their skin. Danny leaned over him, pressing them together. Luke bit his lip and tried to allow himself to be comforted by that—the weight of another body, Danny’s heat. He sniffled loudly.

“Awww,” Matt sneered, “aren’t you two just sickeningly cute. Gonna cuddle and make sweet love now? Take it slow, Danny boy, show him you care.”

“Fuck you,” Danny spat.

Luke shut his eyes and tried to disentangle himself.

“Put him down and fuck him, the slut,” Matt snarled, creeping in a little closer. “That’s what you need, isn’t it, Macks? Someone to pin you down and spread you wide open, fuck you til you can’t walk—none of this pussy bullshit—”

“Stop,” Danny said, shoving Matt half-heartedly. “Matty—”

Luke pushed weakly at Danny, trying to shove him off. He couldn’t stop the flashback now; it was like he was standing in the room, the scent of locker overpowering, and Jack right there before him, his scent lodged in his nostrils—mint, fresh and clean.

Matt was over him now, but he couldn’t smell him; all he could smell was Jack and hockey gear, sweat, and he felt so sick. Wasn’t it enough that he’d lived through it once? Why did he have to keep reliving it, why was it so goddamn vivid? Every time he remembered, it was like it was happening all over again, and he could feel Jack’s grip on him—he knew those were Matt’s hands, not Jack’s, but he could feel those bruises, old scars that should have faded, it had been so long ago, but they were still there, right beneath the surface, and every goddamn time—

“Matty, shut up, something’s not right—”

And his own voice, high and scared—stop, please stop, please, please—and Jack laughing at him, and someone else leering at him, teeth, all of them were teeth, and someone had his hands pinned above his head, and one of them had his left ankle, and Jack had his hips and it didn’t matter how he struggled and—

Matt slapped him and he yelped.

“The fuck, Macks,” Matt said, “what the fuck and—”

“Get the fuck off me, let me go, let me go—”

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, not again, never again—

Matt let him go, surprised. He curled onto his side, squeezing into the fetal position. He tried to make it stop, but the memories were like a bad movie and he couldn’t look away.

A hand down his back, and he shuddered. Danny stroked up and down his spine, rubbed his back. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure,” he croaked. He’d been okay all this time, right? He’d survived. He was fine. There wasn’t a damn thing to be done about it, just try to forget and go on.

Danny saying softly to Matt, “I get the feeling one of those scars wasn’t wanted.”

Luke cringed. No, he definitely hadn’t wanted to be bitten. He definitely hadn’t wanted to be mated. He never wanted to be mated again. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He hated being omega. If he wasn’t omega, this never would have happened. If he wasn’t omega, they wouldn’t have gone after him. He never would have been in heat.

“You want us to leave you alone for a bit?”

He had no idea. He wanted to be left alone—never touched again, he didn’t want anyone to look at him ever again—but he didn’t want to be alone right then and there, because that wasn’t going to stop the flashback. It was going to keep going.

He shook and whimpered.

One of them tossed a blanket over him. Danny snuggled up to him, his hands comforting and his touch gentle. He rested his chin on top of Luke’s head—a show of dominance, and Luke had never felt more pathetic in his life, not even when he’d been lying on the locker room floor, blood and come everywhere—and maybe a tooth or two, everything was hazy—so broken he couldn’t think about moving without hurting, three broken ribs, a punctured lung, blood all over the backs of his thighs, and shame, nothing but shame, shame pooling everywhere across the floor and they’d laughed, called him a whore, a slut, left him lying there—

He shut his eyes tight.

“You wanna talk about it?” Danny asked.

“No,” Luke snapped instantly. “It’s nothing.”

It was nothing. He’d been hospitalized. They’d talked to the cops. He had names, he had faces—all his teammates, he knew them well enough, could have even pulled the entire roster for the line-up that night—and there was evidence, DNA evidence all over him, inside him.
But the nursing staff curled their lips and said he shouldn’t have played, shouldn’t have been in the locker room. Stupid omega, what the hell did he think he was doing? He should have called in sick, should have stayed at home where he would have been safe. What was he thinking, going out in public? For shame.

And there was evidence of inducers in the blood samples they took, but that meant nothing—maybe he’d taken them himself. Maybe he’d been trying to get them to hurt him, trying to get them to rape him. The cops had heard of that before, omegas inducing their own heat to get alphas to rape them so they could press charges after.

Luke couldn’t imagine why he’d wanted to lie on the locker room floor like that, hurting so bad, broken ribs and a punctured lung, scarcely able to breathe, aching everywhere. Pretty sure he was going to die.

If anything, he was going to get charged. Charged with inciting an alpha—probably up to seventeen counts, which seemed dizzingly high. Charged with knowingly inducing heat in order to make false claims of abuse. Actually, they might even charge him with abuse and sexual harassment; after all, the alphas in the room hadn’t been acting of their own accord.

So he was better to just shut up about it. The alphas were so gracious as to not press charges. They were going to let him go, they were going to let him away with what he’d done. He should be grateful, stupid little slut, that they weren’t blaming him for violating their rights, forcing them to have non-consensual sex with him.

He couldn’t press charges. He could be charged. None of the doctors recommended therapy, and all of the nurses looked at him with disgust. If anything, he needed counseling on how to behave like a proper omega. Therapy because he was clearly fucked up for what he’d done.
It took months for the bruises to fade. It took even longer for the bite-mark—the scar on his neck—to heal up. He could still feel the shredded connections of the mate-bond if he went looking for them, raw and painful to the touch. Agony. Sometimes, he touched them accidentally, brushing up against them, and he had to lie down. Sometimes, he threw up if he touched them. Even after eight long years, the remaining cords were still raw, like an open, seeping wound, a gash cut deep into his soul.

He’d spent eight months in counseling because breaking that bond was so fucking painful. It didn’t matter that it was a result of rape, it didn’t matter than whoever had done it to him—he suspected Jack, but the night was such a blur, he couldn’t remember—didn’t reciprocate. The other end of the bond was always silent; whoever had made it had broken it just as swiftly and left him to deal with the remains.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t want it; he’d felt it just as acutely. An alpha had mated him and then refused to give him anything through the bond. Anything an omega was supposed to receive through that bond—love, praise, acceptance, succor—was denied. It hurt, drove him almost mad. It hurt when he slept, it hurt when he was awake. He’d never suffered such a deep, enduring wound. It made him sick constantly. He didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to live, not if living meant hurting like that at every waking hour.

The alpha who bit him didn’t want him, didn’t think he was worth anything. So he wasn’t. Without the reciprocation, he had no reason to go on living. As far as his alpha—whoever he was—was concerned, Luke was a waste of space, a nothing that didn’t deserve anything from him. No love, no time, no directions, nothing. Not even hate. Just silence. His alpha couldn’t spare him the time of day.

He’d never been sicker in his life. He was in and out of the hospital, his parents worried—he’d only been eighteen. He’d dropped out of college, couldn’t stand to be on the same team with them anymore. Coach said it was for the best. He couldn’t concentrate on studies. If he happened to see any of them on campus, he shook. He couldn’t be there any more. He flunked his classes and went home, scholarship or no. He couldn’t even stand the thought of going to another school, joining a different hockey team. What if the same thing happened? What if they had to play them? What if one of them got traded, what if he had to look them in the eye?
It still happened every now and then—his only relief was the fact he lived on the East Coast, played in the Eastern division, and Jack played in the West. They saw each other maybe twice a year. Those were always the hardest games. Luke still felt physically sick every time he saw Jack.

And Jack, Jack would only smirk.

He couldn’t tell anyone about it, just like he couldn’t tell anyone he was omega. Danny and Matt knew now, sure, and he was pretty sure the rest of the team knew, and Jake—oh fuck, Jake.
He curled in tighter.

“Getting bad again?” Danny asked, his hand dropping lower, and Luke nodded, because it was easier to pretend this was heat, his pain and discomfort was heat-induced. If he could just get through this, then maybe in the next lull, they’d take him home, where he could hole up with his pain and hide from the world. After all, this was his fault too—he should have called in sick.

“No,” Danny said gently, kissed his neck, right above the scars, and he froze. “If you hadn’t played, we wouldn’t be going to the playoffs. You got us there, Macks. We needed you, and you came through.”

Matt set a glass of water down on the nightstand. “Mm,” he said, sitting back on the mattress, jostling the two omegas. “A big goal like that deserves a big reward. I mean, we owe our post-season to you, Macks.”

Danny unfurled him, put him on his back and unfolded his legs again. “So,” he said, “what do you want for a reward, Macks?”

He kissed his way down Luke’s exposed abdomen, fluttery butterfly kisses and Luke trembled. Danny paused, then wrapped his mouth around Luke’s cock, now turgid and purple with strain and desire.

He thrust up into Danny’s mouth, unable to help himself. “Please,” he managed, his voice hoarse.

“Please what?” Matt asked, raking a hand through his hair, dragging sweat-damp locks off his sticky forehead.

“Fuck me,” Luke managed. He wasn’t sure he really wanted it, but maybe, maybe—

Matt and Danny exchanged glances.

“All right,” Matt said and laid himself out beside Luke, grabbing his cock and jerking himself to full flag. Danny straddled his shins.

Luke considered them for a moment, and then Matt said, “Well? You wanna get double-stuffed or what?”

Luke nearly came on the spot. He hated that it was his thing—but even after everything that had happened, he couldn’t deny that his favorite part about getting fucked was the stretch. He was a size queen, and he could sheepishly admit it to himself, but he was almost ashamed of it.
Having two cocks in him at once was like a dream come true though.

“Come on,” Matt said.

Luke hesitated a moment more, then crawled over, straddling Matt’s hips. Matt’s hands lingered over his hips, and the alpha grinned up at him. “C’mon,” he said, “ride me.”

Luke inhaled sharply, then sank down on Matt, his eyes slipping shut as the head breached him. He slid down Matt’s steely rod with as much control as he could muster, relishing each inch.

He opened his eyes again when he was fully seated, flush against Matt’s hips. Matt grinned up at him. “You’re pretty loose,” he said. “all relaxed and ready to get stuffed, huh?”

Luke inhaled through his nose as Danny positioned himself behind him, his hands lightly landing on Luke’s hips.

It was a little awkward at first, Danny not quite getting the right angle. Then he got traction and started pushing in, pressed up tight against Matt, forcing Luke open wider around both of them.

“Oh,” Luke groaned, shuddering as he was split open.

“Oh fuck,” Matt moaned, digging his fingers into Luke’s hips. Danny was panting as he kept sinking in, inch by incremental inch.

“Fuck, it’s so tight,” Matt panted, his hips jerking up. It was Danny’s turn to groan as Matt slid along him.

Luke let his head drop forward; he wasn’t ready for movement. He ached, his hole stretching over both of them, the swelling of his inner tissue making his entrance tighter, pressing them more tightly together inside him. It hurt, but it was divine, almost orgasmic. He tingled down to his fingertips.

There was a momentary pause as Danny was sheathed all the way inside at last. Matt’s breathing was uneven; his pupils were blown. He dug at Luke, then shifted his hands to Luke’s cock, jerking him absently, squeezing as he hissed with pleasure. “This is so fucking hot,” he panted, “so fucking hot, fuck, Luke, look at you, look at how hard you are, you’re fucking getting off on this, you’re getting off so hard.”

“Nnn,” Luke replied, rocking his hips a little, feeling the two of them pressing against his insides, the pressure finally enough to push back against the insistent fever that was coursing through him.

“Yeah,” Matt breathed, his hips jerking up. “Oh, god, Danny, you’re so hard, fuck yes.”

“Can feel you Matty.” Danny’s voice was hoarse.

“So good,” Matt groaned, and shut his eyes, thrusting up into Luke, his movements jerky and unsure.

Danny grunted low and started thrusting too, and Luke shut his eyes tight, bit his lip as he got pistoned, the alpha-omega team moving in perfect synchronity, one in, the other out, a steady, fluid motion, constant, continuous, insistent—in and out, in and out, one in deep, the other pulling back, then pushing in as the other pulled back.

“Oh god,” Luke groaned, unable to hold himself back, “fuck, ohhhh.”

“Yeah,” Matt panted, “yeah, let me hear you, c’mon, scream for me, beg for it, beg us, bitch—”

He grabbed Luke’s cock again and twisted his wrist. Luke cried out, sharp, his hips punctuating the noise as he jerked forward into Matt’s insistent ministrations. “Fuck, yes! Please!”

Each thrust was punctuated by a guttural groan, a pant, as Danny and Matt pushed deeper and deeper into him. The bed was shaking now, and Luke wrapped his own hand around himself, guiding Matt off him so the alpha could anchor his hands in the sheets, give himself some more leverage as he fucked Luke harder, his hips lifting up off the mattress, his back arching. He was digging his feet down, pressing through his heels. Danny had a firm grip on Luke’s hips, dragging him, allowing him to be impaled deeper on every successive thrust.

Luke gripped his cock and twisted, jerked himself harder, faster.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, lookit you, fuck, fuck, Luke—”

“Oh God,” Danny groaned, “you’re so fucking tight and wet, so good, so fucking good around my cock, Luke, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” Luke ground out, the noise almost a whimper. He saw stars suddenly, then blackness clouding over his vision; he felt dizzy. He pitched forward on Danny’s next thrust; he’d found his prostate and fuck—

Luke almost screamed when Matt followed up, a second hit to that spot, and then Danny again, and now a steady rhythm, both of them hitting it in turn, pounding into it. He squeezed himself so hard it almost hurt.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, please, yes! Mason!”

He came, suddenly, shockingly, and he stared at Matt, who stared up at him, equally aghast at Luke’s gaffe. It was bad enough to shout out the wrong person’s name when you were fucking one person, never mind two—neither of whom had the name you called.

Luke spilled all over himself and Danny went with him, and the mistake was forgotten in the midst of orgasm—Matt apparently couldn’t stand Luke clenching and unclenching and Danny’s hot load dripping all over him.

They collapsed in a shaky, sticky heap, all of them breathing like Q had just made them run sixteen rounds of suicides—something he’d made them do at the start of camp last year—and they laid there for a while, trying to remember how to live.

“Fuck,” Matt breathed at last.

“That was hot,” Danny murmured, his voice rasping.

He pulled out of Luke first, a splash of sticky, white liquid following him, spattering across the sheets and Matt’s legs.

“Can we just keep you in heat?” Matt asked, his voice trembling. “Just keep you like a little pet, you can stay here and we’ll fuck you when you need it, take real good care of you, and—”

“Hey,” Danny said sharply. He glowered at Matt.

“Sorry,” the alpha murmured. “It was pretty fuckin’ good.”

“Macks has a life,” Danny said, but as much as it was true, there was a note of jealousy in his voice—he was feeling threatened. Luke was a threat to his carefully guarded privilege as Matt’s omega.

Luke just rolled away and shut his eyes. It stung, but he kind of deserved it. He’d called out the wrong name—he was just as uninvested in having a true trois menage as the two of them were in having him be their third wheel. He couldn’t blame them. Threesomes were hot and all, but they were a couple and he was an outsider.

He sank into a strange, lucid dream—a nightmare, more like, where Jack had him pinned and was fucking him gently, and he didn’t want that, wanted to move away, but he couldn’t. Just laid there while Jack fucked him, again and again.

A mouth on his neck, lips over those scars. His eyes snapped open, and he punched Matt in the face.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Matt snapped, clutching at his nose, pulling out. “Oh, god, I think you broke it!”

“I told you,” Danny murmured, and Luke realized Danny had him pinned; he had his wrists pressed firmly together, Danny hanging on to him tightly. It hadn’t been Jack at all, it had been the two of them, treating him like a fuckmoppet while he was out of it.

Danny released his hands. “I told him you were half-asleep,” the other omega said.

Luke swallowed, then said, “I wanna go home.”

Matt opened his mouth to protest.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Danny said, shooting Matt a glare.

Matt deflated a bit. It was pretty clear the alpha wanted to keep Luke longer, but Danny was on guard now, wary of the way his alpha seemed maybe a little too interested in Luke. “How do you feel though?” he asked.

Luke nodded. He was lucid for the moment; the fever hadn’t broken yet, but he was in a lull period—perfect for getting home.

And then maybe he could call Mason over and—

“Well, he’s not done yet,” Danny remarked dryly and all three of them contemplated Luke’s cock for a moment or two, standing straight and tall.

Matt pressed a hand to Luke’s forehead. “You’re still warm.”

“I think the worst is over,” Luke lied. This was merely a lull; he would probably lapse into hard heat—even harder than what he’d just experienced—in a few hours. He’d be pretty much incoherent by the evening. But he wanted to go home, and Matt and Danny didn’t need to know that that hadn’t been the worst of it.

“Okay,” Matt said reluctantly, pulling away. He glanced at Danny. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some food in you before we take you home, though.”

“Good idea,” Danny said, helping Luke up. Luke tried his best not to wince; the worst part of the lull was that everything began to hurt.

They made their way to the bathroom, and the three of them crowded into the shower. “I’m fine,” Luke protested as Matt leaned over him to turn on the water. “I can shower by myself, it’s fine—”

Danny rolled his tongue up his neck, and Luke was keenly aware of his pulse, fluttering just beneath his skin. “You think we’re gonna leave you alone?” he breathed.

“You’re crazy,” Matt murmured. “You might be lucid right now, but you still smell so fucking good.”

Danny nipped at his neck. “Real nice now, real happy—sated.” His breath was warm against Luke’s damp skin, and he nipped at Luke’s earlobe, then whispered, “You wanna fuck Matty? Wanna get sandwiched?”

Luke swallowed tightly, then gave them the barest of nods.

Matt grinned. “Told ya you’d get your turn,” he said, turning about, parting his cheeks for Luke.

“Oh,” Luke said.

Matt guided him in, and Luke gripped the alpha’s hips, gritting his teeth, holding still as Danny spread him wide and pressed into him, forcing him deeper into Matt, until he was well and truly sandwiched between his teammates.

The pace was much less frenetic than previously, slower and sedate. Almost lazy. They fucked for a while underneath the shower spray, until the water ran cold, shocking all of them. But they didn’t stop.

Matt came first, clenching up around Luke, shooting his load all over Luke’s hand, the shower wall. Danny came not long after that, spurting into Luke.

Luke gritted his teeth. He’d come once, and he wasn’t going to get to come again for a while. He pulled out of Matt, still hard, still unsatisfied.

“Sucks,” Matt murmured and Danny nodded sympathetically.

They washed each other down, Matt lavishing a bit too much attention between Luke’s legs for Danny’s liking, and then they were dressed and Danny was forcing Luke to eat and drink—heat generally inhibited virtually every other bodily function. Luke didn’t feel thirsty or hungry. At all.
They drove him home after that. It was already late in the afternoon; Luke felt a bit dizzy thinking about how much time had passed. He hadn’t even thought to look at his phone. He wondered if Mason had said anything else to him.

The sun was beginning to set; the shadows were growing longer. Matt carried his gear up to the condo for him. Danny almost had to carry Luke; Luke’s knees were weak, and he knew his heat was picking up again.

It was awkward to say anything to them, knowing he was going to be back in the clutches of heat in a matter of minutes. They lingered at the door, until Matt finally said, “You need anything, you call us.”

“Sure,” Luke said, breathing softly, trying to control his own reactions.

Danny nuzzled him gently. “Anything,” he murmured, “and I mean that. Even after this. Okay?”

He looked Luke dead in the eye, and Luke had the dreadful feeling that Danny knew, knew that Luke had been raped, knew what his breakdown was all about. And, if he didn’t know, he had some sort of guess. He was omega himself, after all. Who knew what he’d been through on account of that. Being omega was often hazardous to one’s health in an alpha-run world.

“Ciao,” Matt said, waving at him, and they headed back to the elevator. Luke let the door fall shut, heaving a sigh.

He picked up his phone. He hesitated for only a moment. The fever was rising again; heat prickled the back of his neck.

He dialed Mason’s number.

%d bloggers like this: